


The Third Brother: Cal Kestis Alternate Storyline

by spot_the_jay



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, BD-1 Is The Best (Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order), Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Inquisitor Cal Kestis, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spot_the_jay/pseuds/spot_the_jay
Summary: We know the story of Cal Kestis - undercover Jedi padawan on the run after Order 66. He's fighting the Empire, himself, and every bit of wildlife on every planet he comes across. But the addition of Cal's Inquisitor skin to Jedi: Fallen Order got me thinking . . . what would change in the storyline if Cal Kestis was an Inquisitor right from the beginning? What if he never escaped the Empire?So I played through Jedi: Fallen Order in the Inquisitor Cal skin just to see what it felt like. Here are some things I'd change in the storyline if Cal turned to the Dark Side after Order 66 . . .
Comments: 17
Kudos: 40





	1. Preview

“You got a name?”  
What was his name? He’d nearly forgotten, after five years with the other Inquisitors.  
“Cal. Kestis. Third Brother. Listen, who are you people? And why are you helping me? I could call the whole Empire down on your heads!”  
“We track Imperial transmissions - heard there was a Jedi on Bracca. Your Inquisitor friend dispatched him just a moment ago.”  
“That doesn’t explain why you saved me.”  
The woman glanced down at him with a slight smile.  
“Let’s just call it a feeling.”


	2. The Lightsaber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third Brother's first real mission as an Inquisitor takes a turn when he comes face-to-face with his past.

_ He could sense the Jedi just a few steps ahead of him. After just a short time hunting, he’d managed to corner the Force-user in a train. But the door that stood before him refused to open. No matter how many times he activated it or used the Force, it didn’t budge. _

_ “Aaargh!” Frustrated, he gave the door a kick and turned on his heel. Vertigo took him for a few seconds as the hallway folded outward, forming the hall of a ship that extended as far as he could see. It took him just a moment to recognize the architecture as pre-Empire; he was standing in the halls of a Republic cruiser. _

_ “As outdated as the Order. A fitting sanctuary for a skulking Jedi.” Even as he thought this, he set off down the hallway. He knew these halls; knew they would take him directly to the command center. Each tiny marking on the walls was ingrained in his memory, as if he had walked the same pathway hundreds of times. _

_ Finally he came to a crossroads, and the blast doors on either side closed, leaving the straight path as his only way forward. The door opened as he stepped toward it, admitting him into the control room. A lone figure stood with its back to him, crimson hair bright against the colorless walls. This red-haired Jedi was his quarry. _

_ “Face me, Jedi!” he taunted, igniting a single blade of his lightsaber. “Or are you too weak to fight the power of the Empire?” _

_ The Jedi stood motionless in the red glow of his lightsaber. As they turned, though, their figure morphed into a seven-foot-tall Lasat. Dressed in Jedi robes and armor marked with the sigil of the dead Jedi Order, the Lasat towered over him. He tried to hold his ground in the face of his purple-skinned adversary, but found himself stumbling backward. _

_ His foot caught on the edge of the doorframe, but the momentum of his fall ended almost as soon as it began. With a gesture, the Jedi pulled him upright with the Force, holding him a few feet above the ground. _

_ “Mark well, fallen apprentice: the Empire you serve shall be destroyed, and you with it. Trust only in the Force, and perhaps you shall survive.” _

_ The Force hold released, and he was falling. Falling into an endless pit even as blaster fire flew past his face. With a thud he collided with a floor, but the Jedi already stood over him, eyes like fire. Before he could react, a blue lightsaber blade descended toward his head and-- _

“Aaugh!”

With a jolt, he shuddered awake in his chair, breath heaving out of him in gasps. He rubbed his temples, groaning. This dream again? For five years it had lingered, haunting his every move, disrupting his training even when he tried to focus it to his advantage. He couldn’t understand it. At least this time it hadn’t continued into its darkest moments.

Standing, he glanced around the room. The Sisters weren’t next to him. Wandering the ship, probably. They were more restless than he was. He checked that his saber still hung from his belt - a habit he had yet to break - and made his way to his personal quarters. As always, his gaze was drawn to the dark, angular mask that guarded his sleeping mat. This time he went to it, instead of avoiding it as he usually did. As he held it up, his own reflection stared back. Even after five years, he still wasn’t used to the look of his face - yellow eyes cold and calculating, framed by his ever-present shock of red hair. Had he always looked like this? Memory was starting to fail him. This was his life now.

His senses were suddenly overwhelmed by a cloud of darkness. He didn’t need to hear the approach to know who it was.

“Second Sister,” he acknowledged, dropping the mask to his side.

“Third Brother,” she clipped. “We’re landing. Join us at the docking ramp entrance.”

“Of course.” He hefted the mask again, considering.

“You’re distracted. Put it on - it’s time you accepted it.”

He spun to glare at her, but slid the mask over his hair obediently. Second Sister spun on her heel, cape swirling behind her. He had to set a brisk pace in order to keep in step with her.

“Ninth Sister has already been briefed on our objective. If you hadn’t been  _ preoccupied _ , perhaps I might not have to repeat myself.”

He ignored her.

“What’s our target?”

“Force-use sighting at the Bracca scrap yards. Intel from our probes indicates that the Jedi is aboard a scrapper transport train now.”

“Ah. So we’re using Intercept and interrogate.”

He couldn’t read her face beneath the deep black of her mask, but he knew Second Sister well enough to know she was smirking.

“And - if necessary - we’ll dispatch a few civilians for . . .  _ motivation _ .”

“I see.”

A dark feeling clenched his stomach. He shoved it away, as he’d been trained to do. It lingered.

They came to a halt beside the hulking form of Ninth Sister.

“Third Brother. Nice of you to join us,” she growled, baring thick teeth.

He bit back a reply. The mask hid his face - he just had to keep his emotions in check. No sense wasting his energy when it would likely be needed later.

With a lurch, the ship landed. Metal screeched as the docking ramp lowered onto a cobbled-together platform that looked ready to collapse at any moment.

He shifted uncomfortably as he eyed the entrance, tugging at his stiff collar. The Inquisitor uniform was newly starched, sticking in all the wrong places. Nothing like the sleek training uniforms he’d worn for the past five years.

“Quit fidgeting, Brother,” Second Sister hissed. “Your actions reflect on all of us - and I’d hate to send you back to the academy on your first field test.”

Her voice was like a slap in the face, and he nearly recoiled. They all knew what was at stake. For years he’d struggled in the Inquisitorius program, unable to proceed as fast as the others. He blamed the nightmares.

“I am not less of a warrior just because I haven’t killed six Jedi,” he protested.

Her voice was patronizing in response.

“Oh, I’m sure. Perhaps the time will come for you to prove you can kill more than spare stormtroopers and clones.”

Ninth Sister coughed a hoarse laugh in response. His rage boiled, and he fought to keep it in check, fingering the circular guard on his blade.

They strode off the ship together, Second Sister taking the lead. Purge troopers covered the platform, their polished black helmets shining sleek in the pouring rain. His uniform - once stiff - now chafed with unbearable sogginess. His attention fell on the line of workers dressed in gray ponchos. Most were marked by the safety orange stripes designating the Scrapper’s Guild. Most looked confused, but he could feel one that was different.  _ They _ understood why the Inquisitors had come, and he felt probing strands of the Force stretching out, trying to get inside his head. He blocked the encroachment out.

“Is this all of them?” The question was addressed to the Purge trooper captain. The captain dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“Yes, Second Sister.”

“We seek a dangerous fugitive,” Second Sister began, now addressing the row of scrappers. It was a speech she had recited many times before.

“This is no common anarchist,” she continued, “but a devotee of the treasonous Jedi Order.” She spat the words as if they were poison, and he felt a surge of anger through the Force. Whether it came from the Sister or the hidden Jedi, he didn’t know.

Second Sister paced menacingly along the line, evaluating each of the workers. He could feel many trembling under their gaze, naive and confused. They were innocent, but the Inquisitors were trained to use civilians to . . .  _ encourage _ Jedi to reveal themselves.

“Failure to turn over this traitor will result in a charge of sedition.”

She paused her stride, lingering beside two workers at the end of the line.

“Turn yourself in,” she commanded, “or everyone present shall face summary execution.”

As one, the Purge troopers at the perimeter turned their weapons toward the line of scrappers. He could almost smell the hysteria as the workers stumbled back.

Reaching out with the Force, he could feel the panic in one particular worker spiking. But which one? His senses were clouded by the deep darkness of the Sisters.

An Abednedo worker stepped forward. Stocky and powerful, he towered over most of the other workers. Second Sister had paused in front of him. Hesitation wafted off of the alien like a harsh smell, but this wasn’t where the spike of panic was coming from.

“I think it’s time someone came forward-” he stuttered, though the hand of another worker on his arm seemed to cut him off. Third Brother’s attention focused on this interference. The dark-haired worker’s heartbeat echoed loudly, making him almost queasy with its power. He’d found the panic.

But he held back, waiting for the Abednedo to finish.

“I’ve been working on this heap a long time. Way before the war. Used to refit and rebuild ships - best in the galaxy!”

He could feel the fear in the Abednedo - what was he doing? Stalling? For what?

The second worker’s hand slipped behind his back, into the folds of his poncho.

_ Oh? What are you reaching for?  _ He wondered, keeping his attention on the worker speaking.

Hot breath on his neck disrupted his concentration. Ninth Sister sneered at him when he turned.

“Did I break your focus? Shame. A pity you can’t find the Jedi now.”

“I already have,” he retorted, turning back to the line of workers. The Abednedo’s volume had risen, and he now faced the workers beside Second Sister.

“To the Empire, we’re all just expendable!”

He could feel Second Sister’s glee at this statement, though her voice didn’t betray it.

“That’s right - you are.” With that, she held her lightsaber hilt in front of the worker’s chest and ignited it. The Abednedo was dead in seconds.

“No!”

With a fierce, animal cry, the Abednedo’s friend lunged forward, and a lightsaber sprung to their hand. Second Sister blocked the blue blade easily with her second blade, letting the dead scrapper slide off the other end.

“A lightsaber. How interesting!”

Her words drew his attention to the saber, and its hilt shape plugged into his mind like a key, unlocking a memory. Where had he seen a design like it?

Second Sister wasted no time, pressing a furious attack. The Jedi parried most blows, dodging those that he couldn’t block. Ninth Sister looked on smugly, while Third Brother’s mind worked furiously. The lightsaber. That hilt. Whose was it? Why did the answer linger just out of his reach - an itch he couldn’t scratch?

His attention turned to the fight, where the Jedi was weakening fast. Second Sister locked blades with the fugitive, and he got a clear view of the hilt. But who did it remind him of? Desperate for answers, his instincts kicked in.

“Wait!” he shouted, holding out a hand. The Jedi, distracted, lost his grip, but Second Sister did not falter. In seconds her blade pierced the Jedi’s chest, and the light faded from his eyes. Rain sizzled on the blade as she pulled it from the man’s chest and turned to the source of the voice. He could almost feel her focus lock onto him.

“Third Brother. That was your last mistake.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ninth Sister grabbing for him. He dodged, drawing his own blade.

“I need answers!” he shouted, facing off against the Sisters. “Who was that Jedi?”

Second Sister laughed.

“I always knew you were too soft to be an Inquisitor. What does it matter who he was? He’s dead - and soon you will join him.”

Quick as lightning she was at his side, slashing left and right like a furious storm. He could barely hold his saber against the whirling double blades. As Second Sister pressed him backwards, he could sense the fear of the workers. Ninth Sister came barreling toward them, adding her power to Second Sister’s. His strength crumbled under their hatred. After just a few parries his lightsaber was flicked out of his hand. It skittered across the platform and into the dark below.

He scrambled backwards toward the workers, who were surrounded by Purge troopers. The Sisters would slaughter them in their quest to reach him.

“Uungh!” he grunted, pushing them backward with the Force. Stunned scrappers tumbled to the ground, alongside the fallen troopers.

“Run!” he shouted, rolling away from the tip of Second Sister’s blade. The terrified workers tripped over themselves trying to escape, but he was sure they would make it. He, on the other hand, needed nothing short of a miracle - something in short supply at the moment.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Second Sister sneered. “I hope the answers you sought were worth the price of your life.”

His eyes darted around, searching for an escape. The Sisters had blocked his exit, trapping him against the train. With a lightsaber he might have had half a chance. Unless . . .

When the Sisters swung at him again, he rolled past them, snagging the fallen Jedi’s lightsaber.

It hummed in his hands as he ignited it and rose to face the two Inquisitors. Within the hilt he could feel the fallen Jedi’s anger and sorrow flowing. He drew from it, pulling himself upright. If he was to die, he would not go down willingly.

“Save a Jedi, fall like one, Brother,” Ninth Sister said, laughing. Behind her he could see the Purge troopers recovering. He’d be overrun in seconds once they had regained their bearings.

The Sisters advanced slowly, savoring the moment. He could tell they’d longed for a chance to strike him down - to wipe out the weak link that had sullied the name of the Inquisitors.

He managed to stop the first slash Second Sister sent his way, but a second slice from Ninth Sister sent him flying across the rickety platform. His helmet came loose, tumbling to the ground. Though he recovered quickly, Second Sister was already upon him again, frenzied in her strikes. As he held off her attacks, he could feel his feet slipping on the slick metal. The rain continued to fall, dripping into his unprotected eyes and running down his collar. He struggled to keep a grip on the unfamiliar lightsaber.

“Give up now, Brother,” Second Sister urged, locking blades with him again. “Perhaps the Emperor will spare you.”

He refused to respond to her taunt, but he could feel the fire of hatred dying inside his chest even as a surge of confidence filled him. He parried her strikes as best he could, but soon there were too many, and he slipped under the barrage. When he stepped back to catch his fall, only air greeted him. 

An invisible hand closed around his throat, jerking him back up to the platform.

“Not so fast, Brother. Your death cannot be trusted to circumstance alone.”

He could almost see Second Sister smiling under her mask as she dangled him over the edge. Ninth Sister advanced until she could grab his collar. He went limp in her grip, knowing that the next strike would come from Second Sister.

_ It can’t end like this _ , he thought.  _ I need answers. I need to know whose lightsaber this is. _

With a cry, he twisted in Ninth Sister’s grip, swinging the fallen Jedi’s lightsaber at her. Surprised, she released her hold, and he was falling yet again into the darkness of Bracca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be one of the longer ones just because it has so much to set up (as opposed to the story in the actual game). Some lines are taken directly from the cutscenes, while most of the rest are my own words. I'm hoping to release another chapter soon - there's just a few details and a bit of editing left to finish before it's done. Enjoy!


	3. Into Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After interfering in the death of a Jedi, Third Brother flees the other Inquisitors, with little hope for escape.

His fall was halted almost as soon as it had begun as he smashed through a flimsy metal surface. Pieces of his Inquisitor armor jabbed into his sides and neck, sending pain radiating up his spine.

“Ow. . .” he groaned. “That hurts.”

A boot landed in his side, adding to the discomfort. He nearly dropped the lightsaber hilt that was still gripped in his hand.

“How’d you get here?” a stormtrooper demanded, leveling his gun at him. A second trooper followed suit, approaching cautiously.

In the dim light his Inquisitor uniform was barely recognizable. He stepped forward.

“You don’t need to call this in,” he stated carefully, adding a little Force-aided persuasion behind his words. The troopers hesitated. He stepped forward again slowly, raising his hands in submission.

“An Inquisitor!” one trooper exclaimed, seeing the white Imperial insignia reflect in the light.

“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The trooper lowered his blaster slightly. Trooper number two seemed ready to follow, then tipped his head, tapping the radio input on the side of his helmet.

Third Brother’s heart pounded in his chest. It was likely an order directly from the Sisters.

“New transmission from command - says we’re looking for a rogue Inquisitor,” the trooper stated, still listening.

“Armed and dangerous. Shoot to kill.”

“Just my luck,” Third Brother spat under his breath. Before the troopers had time to realize that the rogue Inquisitor stood before them, he’d dispatched them in two quick slashes of his lightsaber. No hesitation. Why had he paused before? He could have killed them as they approached.

He shook his head to free himself of the thought. There would be time to ponder it later - if he survived this. For now, he just needed to get control of this train. If he could find a place to stop it before its scheduled destination, the Sisters would have to work harder to find him.

With this goal in mind, he strode to a door at the end of the car. It opened to allow him outside. Rain pounded down, soaking him through even more - if that was possible. He shook the rain out of his eyes and made his way to the next car. From what he could tell, this was the way to the front of the train. If not, he wouldn’t be alive long enough to regret his decision later.

He edged across the coupling to the next car, reaching out with the Force. Nothing. The Force pulled away from him. He couldn’t grasp it, no matter how hard he tried.

“Augh!” he shouted, clenching his fists. As anger seared the backs of his eyes, he could feel claws of hate dragging the Force to him. He ordered it to locate lifeforms hidden behind the door. There were a few, but the Force resisted his attempts to investigate further. He glanced to his rear. No one was behind him yet, but he was running out of time. No doubt troopers were on their way to him now.

Gathering his courage, he opened the door to find six stormtroopers. Their backs faced him, but already a few were turning at the sound of the door. Desperation set into his mind, and instinctively he twisted the Force into a hand. All the troopers flew into the air, grasping at their throats. As he ran past, Third Brother winced. With a motion of his hands, he threw them against the walls of the traincar. They slumped to the floor, motionless.

He continued through the door, onto a flatbed car. Spotting two stormtroopers standing in the middle, he ducked behind a pile of cargo before they could notice him.

“Did you hear that over the comm?” one asked.

“A rogue Inquisitor? Stay sharp.”

Third Brother prepared to move, but the stormtrooper continued.

“Wonder what he did. . .”

“How should I know?” his companion snapped. “All these Inquisitors care about is blood and glory. Probably failed his job one too many times.”

Third Brother didn’t wait any longer. He’d heard enough. As he shoved away from his hiding space, he could barely hear the trooper cry out over the rushing of blood in his ears.

“I am not a failure!” he shouted, cutting down the first trooper and throwing the other off the side of the train. It took him mere moments - just as it had during his training. His eyes burned in the rain, but he could feel hot tears adding to the moisture on his face. When two additional troopers started firing on him, he didn’t even falter - methodically deflecting their own blaster bolts back at them. He scrubbed at his eyes with a gloved hand. They continued to burn. The Jedi’s saber was heavy in his hand. Echoes of emotions filtered into his brain through the hilt, but he shut them out.

_ Who are you? _ One echo whispered.

“Get out of my head,” he growled. He continued on to the next car, encountering a squad of scout troopers.

“The traitor! Take him down!” one exclaimed. Electro-batons at the ready, the group advanced on him. It took just a few seconds to grab hold of the Force and scatter the group throughout the car with a push. He was about to kill the unconscious soldiers when a small voice stopped him.

_ Why? _

“Gah!” He moved past the fallen troopers. What was wrong with him? Saving a Jedi, hearing voices in his head, going against his Inquisitor training and leaving troopers alive . . . what nightmare had he stepped into?

The sound of approaching gunships startled him out of his thoughts. He was caught in a car with no second exit. If they found him here, he was dead. Scanning the car’s interior, he noticed a cooling fan spinning on the far wall, just below a small window in the ceiling. With a burst of the Force, the fan screeched to a halt. It took him just a few seconds to climb the blades and drag himself onto the roof. Now he could see the gunships approaching behind him. At least five - possibly six. He wouldn’t stand a chance against their powerful cannons.

Boosted by the Force, he leaped to the roof of the next car and began to run. Fear burned in his chest - the same fear that had consumed him during his Inquisitor training. The other Inquisitors would kill him. He was a liability to the Empire - with no allies, no place to run, and no hope for the future. 

What had possessed him to want to save the Jedi? He gripped the lightsaber in his hand, feeling it pulse with each stride like a metal heartbeat. It held something of his past. Something he had forgotten about - and this was the key.

_ “I hope the answers you sought were worth the price of your life.” _

Second Sister’s voice echoed in his head as he leaped another gap between cars. The roar of gunships was steadily growing louder, and he could hear blaster fire ringing out over the cars behind him. A few bolts shot past his head. He stumbled off the edge of a car, falling into the gap of a coupling.

The door of the next car slid open, and he rushed inside to take cover. Blaster bolts sliced through the walls, sending splinters of metal flying. He dodged them and ran to the next door. Just a few more cars and he’d be at the front.

As the door slid open, blasts rocked the train. The car coupling shattered under the heavy barrage from a nearby gunship, leaving a cracked connector that looked ready to fall apart. Hooking the Jedi’s lightsaber to his belt and balancing on the broken link, he jumped into space and grabbed a piece of grating on the other side. His arms burned as he pulled himself up, but he persisted in the climb. The side of a train was possibly the most vulnerable position he could be in, and he was not about to stay at that disadvantage.

“Glad all that physical training is paying off,” he muttered to himself as he worked his way back up to the roof. 

After an agonizing few minutes of climbing, he finally dragged himself over the edge - and found himself face-to-face with an Imperial gunship. His chest clenched as the gunship’s cannons charged, laser sights flickering over his face. He closed his eyes. Not the best way to go, but it seemed he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Blaster shots and an ensuing explosion deafened him long before he managed to open his eyes. As he blinked in shock, the gunship fell as a flaming wreckage from the sky. Searching for the source of the shots, his gaze settled on an arrow-like ship with a narrow profile and a large wing shaped like the fin of a sea creature. His Inquisitor training picked out the details and supplied him with a name: S-161 “Stinger.” A luxury vessel, most commonly used by bounty hunters and guild leaders.

He pushed the thought out of his mind and kept moving along the top of the train. Bounty hunters were the least of his problems. He could deal with them easily. Two raging Inquisitors? Not so much.

One gunship had been taken care of, but there were more coming. He picked up the pace. Just a few more cars and he could gain control of the train.

His hope was short-lived. A gunship roared past him, spinning to face the moving train. Two blasts tore into the track, releasing the train from its shattered rails. He found himself sliding down a vertical surface as the train dipped into the fog of Bracca, and he flailed wildly as he was knocked about by various pieces of cargo and falling debris. He fought to control his fall, but he was rapidly approaching the end of the car. The gaping darkness of Bracca yawned before him, and he once again found himself thrust into the uncertain air, tumbling to an unknown fate.

Wind tore past him as he spread his arms and legs and balanced on the air, trying by any means to slow his descent. He continued to accelerate, however, and he feverishly scanned the falling debris for any salvation. He found it in a flying droid - one of the ship-cutting workers. The impact nearly jerked his arm out of his socket, but he held on even as the droid grappled to throw him off. As the droid descended, spinning back and forth to shake itself free, he scanned the area, spotting a rickety platform jutting out into the void. Using the droid as a swinging pivot point, he launched himself toward the platform, barely grabbing the edge as he fell.

Just as he had pulled himself over the edge and breathed a sigh of relief, his momentary calm was shattered by the screech of a TIE Interceptor landing on the platform just above his. 

“Just what I needed,” he muttered, flicking the Jedi’s blade from his belt and igniting it.

The TIE’s pilot was soon revealed as the Second Sister jumped out of the cockpit, floating down to the platform where he stood like some fallen angel.

“Going somewhere, Brother?” she sneered, menace in her step as she approached him. He didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. Instead he set his feet as firmly as possible on the wet platform, preparing for a fight. His insides churned with anxiety.

“Lost your tongue, have you?” she mocked, unclipping her lightsaber from her belt. She twirled it, igniting a single blade.

“Silence suits you, Brother. Luckily the noble Jedi within you has guaranteed that state for eternity.” With that, she lunged forward, barely giving him the chance to raise the Jedi’s blue blade to meet it. He slid backward a few feet on the slick metal under her force, but held his ground. The blades came dangerously close to his face as Second Sister leaned into her attack.

“How interesting - your eyes have changed,” she observed, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Uungh,” he grunted, pushing back. The clashing blades nearly blinded him in the dim light, but he managed to free himself and roll out of the way as her blade slashed down where he had stood a moment before.

“You won’t dodge the next,” Second Sister warned, already advancing again. It was strange, he thought, parrying her next blow - they had once trained side by side. Now, because of his mistake, they were adversaries.

Second Sister’s saber hammered on his own, forcing him to draw on every ounce of the Force he could grab hold of in order to fend her off. It wasn’t enough. The Sister extinguished her blade and swept at his knee, kicking his legs out from under him. The Jedi’s lightsaber fell from his hand as he landed on the cold metal.

“And so it ends, Brother.” Second Sister laughed, raising her saber for a killing blow. He held out a hand, groping blindly for the fallen lightsaber even as he waited for death to take him.

BA-BOOM!

Two explosions on the platform sent the Second Sister flying. Ears ringing, he glanced around for the source, gaze settling on a Stinger yacht - the very same vessel that had saved him from the gunship on the train. A boarding ramp was lowered from the side, and a dark-skinned human female with close-cropped hair leaned out of it.

“Get on board!” she called, unholstering a blaster at her waist. He scrambled upright, grabbing the Jedi’s lightsaber as he stood. Bounty hunters were better than facing the Sister when he was already exhausted. Even as he dashed toward the ramp, he could hear Second Sister igniting her lightsaber again. The woman on the boarding ramp pulled him up without a second glance and fired on Second Sister. With clean, precise movements the Sister deflected them back. One blast burned into the side of the ship, barely missing the short-haired woman’s head as she continued to fire on the Inquisitor.

“Captain! Get us out of here!” The woman shouted, shoving him aside. Her eyes were fixed on the Sister, who accelerated in her movements toward the ship. He watched, stomach sinking, as the door closed at an agonizingly slow pace. Second Sister did not seem concerned. In a dark streak, the Inquisitor seemed to teleport to the edge of the platform, flinging herself into the air toward the ship with her lightsaber raised.

He could feel her eyes lock onto his through her helmet as he stared up through the slit in the door. In a burst of fear, he raised his hands and channeled the Force, pushing it out toward the Sister. The power was enough to send her flying away from the ship as the door sealed with a quiet  _ hiss _ . For a half-second he breathed a sigh of relief.

A quick shake of the ship was enough to tell him they had launched into hyperspace, reminding him that his problems were not at an end. With a flick of his wrist he ignited the Jedi’s saber, turning toward his would-be saviors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! Sorry for the long wait - school was a bit crazy and I've had this chapter half-finished for ages. Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously just a tiny portion of the work - I'm writing the pieces as the inspiration comes, so this is just a taste to get a post out there. I hope to have the first part of Cal's story figured out soon.


End file.
